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Wrath of Box-God
Stretch leaned against the wall, listening carefully, shuddering at Headmaster's every cold, thoughtless word. The wall he'd been listening from, was quite shallow, and possibly easily-broken. He'd been listening thoughtfully, when he overheard the single word, that headmaster basically spat at his colleagues, through gritted teeth, and probably tense body activity. Stretch knew what was going to happen, he listened to Headmaster's words after all. Most of them anyway, the most important of this doomsday-speech. He needed to stop this, but who'd listen to a tall-but-small boy with unusually shaped fingers and a watch that basically spelt out 'Old-school'? Who'd help him in his new quest to save the school? Almost at first, he thought of his female friend, Sasha. She was a tall, small teenage like him, but he had brown-piercing eyes, and beautiful blonde hair that could playfully whip you at any moment. She was always a thinker, a person who'd survey the danger before it even happened. She should hear about this, ''He thought gracefully. ''She should know. Once he carefully, noiselessly left the filthy corridor, and entered the student's locker area, he was almost greeted instantly as a certain stink hit his noise like a train. People have been spraying deodorant everywhere again, He thought disgustedly. They never learn. His body tensed as he heard numerous footsteps approach from a sliding door, down the corridor. Instinctively, we slunk behind a bulky red-doored 3 by 3 locker collection, which was, fortunately, big enough to fit behind. As the footsteps got louder, Stretch noticed, more and more have been disbanded each few seconds, greeted by a swift open and close of a pine door each time. After a while, it seemed most teachers have settled in numerous classrooms scattered down the hall. Nearly all but a few, which Stretch would recognize instantly. The headmaster's cold cut-throat voice stole his ears aggressively, as he basically yelled at a student who was, by headmaster's tone, stealing. John was a known-stealer, stealing from pencil cases, bags and even from the staff-room. It sounds as if he got caught, or someone snitched him to the teachers.. "..You have been stealing far too long, John! You actually think you've gotten away with it? You think we don't mark down how many times you steal? You think we don't have you on surveillance?! What do you have to say for yourself?!" He rasped vigorously. As the footsteps stopped in front of the wide arch of the locker room, while the headmaster was unlocking the coordinator office, John's troubled face saw Stretch's. He glanced at stretch with astonishment, then turned back to the muttering head-teacher. Thank god John didn't say anything. ''He thought gratefully. Then we would've both been in trouble. '' Several minutes passed, as Stretch awkwardly waited for the bell to start, so he could get out of his cold and dusty hiding place, and meet up with Sasha before class, for the so-called secret organization of kids, who'd hopefully swear to secrecy, and spoil Headmaster's plans before he even tries. When the bell rang and the doors began opening, he got out of his place, and waiting for Sash, as he'd planned. Once the locker room, was more full than a cave stocked with water, he approached Sasha, attempting to not fall over due to the massive chaos, that was happening on the floor. "Sasha? I need to talk to you. Please, listen to me carefully" He whispered smoothly, "What do you want now?!" She rasped, vengefully. She didn't wait for a response, as she left a gobsmacked Stretch, still mouth wide open, and walked towards her classroom, with her books in a neat pile surrounded by her arm. (To totally be continued, or abandoned completely, Idk yet tho, so yeah)